


Belongings Still Belong

by butimnotdeadyet



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, barely even notable CapCan, but I have a lot of feelings and no outlet, spoilers for 2.04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butimnotdeadyet/pseuds/butimnotdeadyet
Summary: Sometimes, when a teammate is gone for an extended period of time, their favorite items get re-purposed or re-homed. Often, upon their return, said teammate is unamused by such developments. And then proceeds to wreak havoc on the emotional integrity of others. Spoilers for 2.04





	

**Author's Note:**

> Grrrrr.
> 
> Not Ray-bashing, but its midnight and that scene in the latest episode rubbed me the wrong way.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them but if I did Ray would just rebuild his own suit and we wouldn't have any of this nonsense.

Ray’s finger was still digging into his ear as he and Mick crossed the threshold of the Waverider’s hold, carefully pulling out small, luckily unbloodied, parts of the comms devices that had decided to fragment when his partner hit the gas tank of a humvee. It had actually been a fairly successful mission, up until then- finally felt like he and Mick were getting to a point of communication that wasn’t influenced too strongly by either’s past as a criminal or Eagle Scout, respectively. Took them two months, but it felt good. Unlike the piece of copper filament lining his ear canal that he had just lost his grip on for the third time. 

 

“Ray!” Came a shout from up the stairs. Ray blinked as Jax barreled down the flight, not stopping until he was an arm’s length away. “Ray, man you gotta take it off!”

 

Without pause, the younger man’s hands dove toward Ray's leg, fumbling until they made contact with the strap that secured his inherited weapon to his leg, and then yanking at odd intervals in hopes of finding the release mechanism.

 

“Jax, it's fine,” Ray said, swatting at the hands that were now groping wildly up the inside of his thigh, “It was the comms that malfunctioned, anyway. I managed to rewire the gun’s critical core containment last week; no threatening buzz, now. It doesn’t even reject my grip anymore. See,” he pulled his right hand free of its glove before flipping it outward for observation, “no major burns.” 

 

Jax’s hands stilled for a moment, distracted by the clear skin of the exposed hand. 

“Really, man? How’d you get the firing pin to keep from locking up during long blasts- Shit, no! Not, now- you gotta take it off. Now!” 

 

Hands dove once again towards the still-secure fastenings and Ray stepped back, almost colliding with Mick- who’s attention was divided between watching the interaction unfold and rubbing some terrorist's fingerprints off of a piece of newly acquired finery- and was only prevented from doing so when the arsonists elbow redirected him towards a crate at the last second, thoroughly cornering the billionaire for the mechanics onslaught.

 

“Jax, what the hell!?”

 

With wide- fearful, even- eyes, Jax finally supplied a reason for his assault.

“Snart  _ remembered _ . And, he’s looking for his stuff!”

 

For the following countless seconds, Ray Palmer’s brain was flashing with scenarios. And of the thirteen that he conjured, not a single one involved his possession of the gun-  _ the Cold Gun _ \- going over well with the man who made it famous. In fact, most involved selective dismemberment and  _ none  _ of them were pretty. 

 

Sure, he’d been using the gun for the better part of the last two months, knew its inner workings and had even adjusting some of the finer strokes to be more in line with his handling had even worn it on his person in front of Snart’s Legion counterpart while the man was locked up tight in their brig, waiting for reality or someone other stimuli to kick in. But the active part of  _ that _ Leonard Snart’s mind didn’t even know of the weapon, let alone that it had belonged to him (though Ray knew that Cisco Ramon would argue otherwise).  _ Their _ Snart, the team’s crook, however- without a doubt- would have a very different outlook at seeing the particle blaster strung around someone else's leg. A decisively  _ negative _ outlook, if the way that the rest of their crew had acted when they first saw Ray wearing it was anything to go by. Sara had looked ready to flay him alive- and it wasn’t even her’s!

 

For the second time in a matter of moments, Ray’s hands batted Jax’s away, this time replacing them with his own while trying to ignore the still-present metal prickling in his ear and the chaotic and stoic energy being emitted by Jax and Mick, respectively.

It truly is amazing how difficult normal and familiar task become when fear of bodily harm is promised. While he worked at the straps, Jax elaborated- very quickly.

 

“He just  _ shot up _ \- was sitting, slumped all dramatically in the corner, then  _ bam! _ next thing I know, he’s calling me ‘Jax’ again, and asking why he’s ‘doing his best impression of a Lobotomized Mick’. Even asked if the Oculus explosion had looked as dramatic _ as it felt _ . Stein and I let him out half an hour ago, but after Sara froze him out- like, completely refused to address him as anything but ‘Cold’, saying that she was just as likely to throw him in the brig again as she was to ‘clarify her intentions’- whatever the hell that means- when he asked. Knives were involved. Scary, man.” He shook his head rapidly before continuing, watching Ray struggle with the band above his knee helplessly, “-Then he started poking around and scared the piss out of Nate before asking where the gun was and. . . I - I tried to call you guys, but the comms-” Another helpless gesture in hopes of nullifying Ray’s affronted-ness at the situation and failing.

 

Ray's nails pulled on the final release just as the three men in the cargo hold heard a sure, recognizable pattern of footsteps reach the top of the stairs and proceed towards them without pause. 

 

Leonard Snart rounded the corner a beat later, very much familiar with his surroundings in a way that had been missing for weeks, just in time to see the cold gun- holster and all- drop unceremoniously to the metal plated floor, landing with a _ clang _ that made both Jax and Ray flinch.

 

Then came an eerily welcome and terrifying drawl of, “Raymond, I believe you have something that doesn’t belong to you. . .”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> That's it.  
> Or is it?  
> I have no idea, but this dynamic could be fun. More 'poorly procured object' storylines to come?
> 
> Thanks  
> Gin


End file.
